


The More Thing Change

by Mocking_point



Series: Sansa Stark Appreciation Week [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sansa Stark Appreciation Week 2020, anti Sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mocking_point/pseuds/Mocking_point
Summary: Sansa runs into an old friend at the feast celebrating the Battle for the Dawn.Written for Sansa Stark appreciation week 2020
Relationships: Sansa Stark & Jon Snow, Sansa Stark & Sandor Clegane
Series: Sansa Stark Appreciation Week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752754
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	The More Thing Change

It’s alright to be enjoying yourself.” Jon said, to Sansa shaking her out of her somewhat drunken thoughts. “If only for a little bit.”

“Tell that to your queen.” Sansa said, before she could help herself. She showed off a grimace as she practically felt her brother’s annoyance bleed off him with a sigh.

Sansa knew that the conflict between her and her brother’s… paramour was causing him undue tension, but she could not help it. Jon told Sansa that she is just refusing to see the Targaryen queen as she truly is and is letting what her family did to the Starks get in the way of that. However, Sansa would argue that it was her brother that was not seeing clearly ever since the two monarchs slept together. She sighed and downed another cup of wine.

The way that she legitimized Gendry “Rivers” without thinking or consulting her advisors showed Sansa exactly what she needed to know. Putting aside the fact that she barely knew him enough to even know his actual name or the fact that he was her second cousin -and according to the great council of 101 AC that would probably make him, as a male, a stronger contender for the throne- his father was Robert Baratheon and her father was the Mad King.

As bad of a king that Robert was, the smallfolk did not see it. His era signified an era of peace. Meanwhile her father was Mad King Aerys. He… well he got the name for a reason. Jon may have bent the knee to her, but their lords will always remember their Uncle Brandon and their grandfather. Let alone what the smallfolk will think. Joffrey most publicly was the smallfolks woes, yet Tyrion was the one blamed since he happened to be there once they started. No way would they forget what the mad king put them through. They weren't slaves waiting to be freed, they were people who just wished to go on with their lives with Highborn war.

Another thing that Jon was forgetting but Sansa never would, was the fact that she spent years in King’s Landing, _years._ Joffrey, Cersei, Baelish, Ramsay, all of them taught her how to see a mask of benevolence. The Dragon queen may be projecting the air of the Good Queen Alysanne but Sansa likened her to the Young Dragon, Daeron I. The Dragon Queen may win the throne, but she would never be done conquering. She took over rulership in Meereen but was now looking to rule the Seven Kingdoms. The woman would never be done conquering, and Sansa did not plan on allowing the North and her people to be one of those Kingdoms to conquer that she will eventually become bored with.

“I’m sorry.” Sansa slightly slurred from drink. “I am a little on edge… Feasts… I do not have the greatest history with celebrations…”

“Here, here!” Tyrion said, walking behind them causing Sansa to roll her eyes.

Sansa looked at the man that she used to think was the smartest man alive. When she knew him, he was the sharpest man in the room, taking people’s number without much of a challenge. He, Jon, and Varys -although he seemed to flip-flop worse than the Tyrells- all trusted her, is her own prejudices not allowing her to see the woman truly?

Jon told her a little bit about the woman. The parallels between Sansa and Daenerys herself were strong, very strong. Sansa would not, _could_ not, deny it and to be perfectly honest? It scared Sansa just how similar the two of them were. Abusive husbands, they were both raped on their wedding nights, both were used and passed around as bargaining chips, and both would do _anything_ to get their countries back. Sansa almost crossed a line she never could have come back from.

As similar as they were, Sansa knew that the dragon queen was not her friend, and definitely not Jon’s friend. She would only ever see them as subjects, never allies. They would be expected to fight whatever wars she would want to fight at the drop of a hat; ironically not unlike how Robert Baratheon was like with Sansa’s own father. As Sansa said, she would never be done conquering and -like during the Baratheon regime- the North would be dragged into it. She could not let her people be killed by the petty southern wars. She would not fail them; not again.

“Why don’t you walk around?” Jon said, giving her a sympathetic smile. He knew how the last few feasts that she had turned out.

“I… don’t think that is a good idea… I think I may be a little drunk.” She said, with a slight giggle.

“Well I believe in you!” He said, slamming his hand down on the table in an ironic echo of her earlier statement.

She walked away and a few minutes later saw the queen walk off in a huff of jealousy. She must admit, she was no Joffrey. He never would have abided by someone singing praises that were not directed at him, especially if he thought it was at his expense. She was not her father either, who would have just burned someone alive had he gotten annoyed with them.

But it does not matter. The North was the North. They were not like the other seven kingdoms, even Dorne had more similarities to the southern kingdoms than the North did. The North just did things differently, they had different traditions, hell even their gods were different from the rest of the kingdoms. They were too detached from the rest of the Kingdoms to be part of such a kingdom that was practically united against them.

She needed to clear her head as she was depressing herself. As she walked amongst the lower tables she saw where Tormund got to. She froze as she saw who he was sitting next to. Sansa knew he was here. Jon and Arya both mentioned the fact, he apparently had saved Arya’s life during the siege. Sansa has not been avoiding him, but she had not been seeking him out either.

“Af’er all that he just comes North and takes ‘er from me.” Tormund said, weepily leaning on Sandor. “Just takes ‘er. Like that!”

“ _Her_?” Sansa thought to herself before she remembered who Tormund had been obsessed with since she had met him. “ _He can’t… He can’t mean_ ** _Brienne,_** _can he?”_

Thinking back to how her sworn shield starred at Jaime Lannister with starry eyes as they continued speaking, Sansa quickly realized what had happened when a quick look told her that she was not there. She felt happy for the woman despite her feelings about Jaime Lannister. She was more devoted to her duty than any other person than Sansa knew. She deserved this, she deserved to relax.

“I’m not ‘fraid of Wildlings.” The serving girl (whore? She know Tyrion hired many to spread into the waiting staff) said, raising an eyebrow as Sansa finished another glass of wine. She doubts that she has even been this drunk and she must say she thinks that she is handling it very well.

“Maybe you should be.” Tormund said, suggestively wagging his eyebrows.

As Sansa realized what was happening, she felt a tightening in her own belly. One she had not really ever felt before, except maybe with Loras Tyrell. She shook out of her distraction as Sandor growled at the woman, terrifying her so that she would make her escape. Thinking of the feeling in her belly she walked over.

“She could have made you happy…” She said, as she sat down. She wondered if his rejection of her was due to lack of interest or because of self-hatred and cynicism. Gods know that he has enough of that. Enough that he tried passing it onto her. “For a little while.”

He looked up in surprise, whether he was shocked she was there or that she decided to speak to him she did not know. When they finally broke eye contact, he said, “There’s only one thing that’ll make me happy.”

“And what’s that?” She said humoring him, trying to get him to lighten the hell up.

“That’s my business!” He growled trying to scare her away. Once, it might have worked. She drunkenly cocked an eyebrow to show that she was unamused. “Used to be you couldn’t look at me.”

“That was a long time ago…” She said sadly remembering the kiss from the Blackwater. One of the only two people she has ever kissed and the only one she somewhat wanted it from. Is that why he was not looking at her, trying to scare her away. “I’ve seen much worse that you.”

“Yes I’ve heard… Heard you were broken in… Heard you were broken in rough…” He said, almost smugly and she clenched her teeth. Why was he being so hostile? She was trying to extend an olive branch.

“Yes.” She said, she had already lost Theon today and her patience was quickly wearing thin. “He got what he deserved. I gave it to him.”

“How?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“Hounds…” She said, causing a moment of laughter from him.

“You’ve changed, Little-Bird.” Sandor said, taking a drink. Once she had a sickening liking to the demeaning nickname. Now it just angered her. “None of it would have happened had you come with me.”

_“And there it is.”_ Sansa thought to herself. Most of the men in her life tried taking credit for what she was or could have been. To be frank, she was sick of it. Sansa was the woman she was today because of two men and a woman, all of which were named Stark. She may not have gotten everything she has due to her own merits but the men who spit poison and abuses at her no longer could claim credit for it. She would not allow it. No longer.

“That’s the thing Sandor.” She said, grabbing his hand to his surprise. “I was never a little bird. I was a puppy. And Gods help those who think they can tame a Direwolf.”

She stood up and grabbed Tormund’s nearly full goblet. If he wanted to stew in his cynicism, hatred, and self-loathing than he was more than welcome to it. She was not going to allow him to infect her with it as well. That is all he tried to do even since they first met at the Crossroad Inn all those years ago. She was done trying to save someone who did not want to save themselves but drag her down to their level instead.

She would always be grateful for what he did for her sister, but she was done trying to save him. It was not her job. She looked down at her former would be protector and walked off, forgetting the reason that she came over in the first place.


End file.
